The Khajiit In The Black Dress
by mechafone
Summary: A Khajiit descended from nobility and her brave friend Inigo discover and explore a land far removed from Tamriel.


The Khajiit In The Black Dress

Chapter One

"Welcome to Falskaar!"

These words rang mutely in Zel'ra's head as the large doors swung open into beautiful countryside. Where had she and her companion appeared? Was this still Skyrim? The look on Inigo's face told her that he had no more idea than she. It had only been several hours since tackling a gang of bandits holed up in Deep Echo Mine, on behest of an old man in Riften. He'd insisted there was some evildoing in the cave, but he'd made no mention of a Dwarven portal to a different world.

"It is a bit like Falkreath...and Riften!" Inigo mused. "Although I do not remember either hold being quite so...flat."

Zel'ra chuckled and reached behind her to feel for her bow, a nervous habit that Inigo had come to recognize. "It is hard to think of this place as a warzone," she said, her gloved hand gripping the oak weapon. "It is beautiful and peaceful here, and the air…" She paused and closed her eyes, inhaling as she reached out with her Khajiit senses.

"I smell it, too," Inigo answered. "The air is mild and sweet-smelling, but also…"

"...Cold."

"Cold, eh?" Olvir chuckled as he approached the pair. Olvir had been the one to find Zel'ra and Inigo inside an old Dwemer fortress, having appeared there when they stepped through a portal that a Dwarven Colossus had been guarding deep inside an unassuming mine in Skyrim. He was a guard, and had insisted that the pair help him find a missing blacksmith's apprentice. The adventure had been short, and had revealed that there was bad blood stirring in Falskaar. "That would be because Falskaar is a glacier."

The Khajiit pair stared at the Nord. "How can that be? This land is green and full of life."

Olvir set his eyes on Zel'ra. "Well, it's an old, old story. Way it goes, our ancestors found our way here the same way you did, through that portal. 'Course, the land was frozen, so cold that even several Nords could not bear it, and some died. Their leader, Hjalmar, refused to let anyone outside again, for he did not wish more to die. Forty six days later, one of the travellers, Olav, left in search of hope. His journey nearly killed him, but he pressed on until an avatar of Shor appeared before him, a great dragon called Ahkrinviing. He tore out his heart and gave it to Olav, who used it to turn half this land into the paradise you see before you."

"Oh, uh, interesting," Inigo offered. Zel'ra elbowed her friend's ribs. "That is to say, a fascinating adventure! What an ordeal."

The Nord chuckled and shrugged with amusement. "Eh well, it's never been exactly proven. I'm just a soldier, not a scholar. But don't take my word for it. You should head to Amber Creek, like I said, but if you get a chance, visit Borvald. They uh, probably won't let you in, but you'd at least get a good view of the northern side of Falskaar. Nothin' but ice." The soldier frowned and turned to leave.

"And just why wouldn't they let us in?" Zel'ra demanded, bare arms crossing over her chest.

Olvir sighed, pausing. "Because there has been a recent flurry of bandit activity in the land. People have been ambushed and terrorized. There have been robberies and deaths, and…"

"How many of your citizens are Khajiit?"

The soldier frowned at Inigo's question. "We have none."

"And the bandits?" Zel'ra asked.

Olvir's shoulders seemed to sag at the question. "Plenty...however," he began quickly, "we've never had someone come through the portal, not for eight hundred years. You did cooperate with me, and helped rescue Mecaius. You've given me no reason to suspect you of anything other than good intentions, and the people of Falskaar are not unreasonable. You shouldn't have any trouble here simply for being Khajiit."

"Hmph...it would be a welcome change from Skyrim," Zel'ra said with no lack of ire, earning a pity pat from her companion.

The conversation was over. At least, Olvir assumed it was, and resumed his departure with haste. The two Khajiit watched him leave for a moment, then turned back south, in the direction of the town they had been instructed to visit. "Well. This certainly is a beautiful forest," Inigo quipped, breathing in the air. "And it is a wonderful day for a walk."

The blue Khajiit reached into his pack and produced a sweetroll. "Again?" Zel'ra chuckled as the two resumed walking. "You are going to get round and lazy."

"Round? Perhaps. I would not mind, I enjoy round things. Perhaps I could roll around the woods instead of running through it!"

Inigo's companion giggled at the thought. "You certainly are a silly cat…"

After a moment's quiet stroll, Inigo sighed, his paws held in front of his face. "Too much icing, my fur is going to get sticky. I need…" He paused, sniffing the air. "Water! We are close to water!"

Zel'ra also caught the fresh scent of water, and her ears twitched as she could pick up the sounds of a dull, constant roar. "And not just water, I hear a waterfall!" The two picked up the pace and began running until they reached a nearby waterfall. The water fell twenty feet, not a grandiose sight as expected, but it was beautiful. Inigo gleefully dipped his claws in the water and splashed about like a playful kitten for a moment while his friend scouted the area.

The top of the waterfall was magnificent. Bright, white stone shone in the sunlight, water droplets and tiny rainbows dotting the pooling water. It lead to a drop that was at least three Moon Cows wide, and ran off into a strong, flowing river that headed west, as far as the eye could see. Falskaar was turning into quite a beautiful land. Something was wrong, though. Something felt off about this place. "Inigo, do you feel something is wrong?" she asked, ears pinning back in anticipation of his answer.

Her friend approached her, whiskers dripping with water. "I do. There is a nasty feeling about this waterfall. It is not in the water, it is quite refreshing. But something does feel...dreadful."

Zel'ra sighed and closed her eyes, and concentrated. She knelt down to the ground, feeling the grass. The sound of the waterfall faded, the spray of the water on her fur numbed. Her ears twitched as they reached out. They could faintly pick up on a new sound, and her nose, twitching like a bunny, was now picking up certain odors. She crept forward, the source of the new smells and noises getting closer until -"Careful, my friend!"

Inigo's voice and his paw grasping her shoulder pulled Zel'ra from her sense trance. The extrasensory experience had pulled her to the edge of the waterfall, leaving a twenty foot fall to the ground below. "Oh...thank you, Inigo…"

"The scouting abilities of the Dune nobility are impressive, but certainly they should not put one in danger like you often do," he chided.

Back in Skyrim, Zel'ra had had many near-misses, or had missed an immediate danger by honing her senses, searching for a specific place or thing. As a young cub, she had gone through grueling training to heighten these senses. Yet for all her practice, putting them to use out in the wild usually had great risk, which she usually invited. "Apologies."

"I cannot repay my debt to you if you are hurt, or...worse." Inigo's features sagged at the thought.

"It is a good thing you are watching my back," she replied, reaching over to squeeze her friend's shoulder. "Come. What I sensed is down below. It is a terrible feeling."

At the base of the waterfall, the two Khajiit discovered a small opening, a cave carved into the stone. Their bows at the ready, they snuck inside, quiet as could be. They heard whispering voices after the cave lead inwards, away from the roar of the waterfall. There, they found humans in black robes. Scattered around the cave were tables and benches, both of which were covered in alchemic baubles, blood and bones. Necromancers.

Even in Skyrim, the most "innocent" of the necromancers were evil, and would risk life and limb to protect their work. Zel'ra did not expect an arrow to the throat to calm the others. The slaughter began, the men and women rushing to meet the two archers, who had split up on either side of the flooded floor. The fight did not last long. Inigo brushed off a bit of frost on his shoulder as he approached his last victim, an ebony arrow lodged in her throat. She had crawled towards a corridor in the back, leading down. She finally slumped to the floor with a hand stretched out, reaching for something.

"That one did not die graciously."

Zel'ra chuckled quietly as she dipped a blood-soaked arm in the clear water of the small pool in the room. It was not her blood that turned into a red cloud in the large basin.

"Can you feel that?" Inigo asked, staring down into the corridor. "There's a breeze…"

"I do…" The female Khajiit approached, her fur cleansed. There was indeed a breeze from down below, and they still had not determined what that feeling of dread was outside. Now that the action had subsided, it was stronger down in this cave. Both archers prepared their bows, and began their descent. Further down, the cave began to form into something else, something more solid, something more familiar.

"Dwemer ruins? Even all the way out here?"

"We do not know where we are, Inigo. The sands of Elswyere are vast and seemingly endless; to think of how far Tamriel stretches, it aches the mind just to fathom it."

Zel'ra's fancy speech comforted Inigo. Even before the incident, Zel'ra's special way of speaking that she usually held in reserve was a form of reassurance for him. The two crept further down, hearing voices. More muttering. Inigo crept to the edge of the corridor, Zel'ra opposite him. The female nodded to him, bow drawn and nocked. They turned as one, only to find an empty hallway.

Bewildered, the two Khajiit gasped as the floor began to shake. Their feet struggled to keep balance as the tremors escalated to the point of hurting. Zel'ra let out a yelp as her bow snapped in half, a bolt of lightning striking her arms. She fell to the floor as Inigo leapt backwards, avoiding the same fate and firing off a shot that pierced the wizard's hand. The tremors subsided for a moment as the perpetrator retreated. "My friend! Are you ok?"

Zel'ra's hands ached, and her ankles felt like they'd been running for over an hour. She looked up as Inigo knelt at her side, bow pointed into the hallway before them. Rock walls and broken Dwemer pipes hid their view. Who knew how many other necromancers were hiding?

"I will live...they will not," she growled.

"Oh please!" a third, hidden voice chimed. "Two Khajiit with little wooden stick bows?! You cannot hope to compete!"

"Mine is ebony…" Inigo muttered with indignation.

"And one of them is broken. So brittle, and I know you had little else. So come out and face a master of the arcane!" the wizard called, ironically still hidden just beyond the hallway. The sound of a summon burst through the air, and a moment later a flame atronach drifted elegantly into view, flames in her hands.

Inigo's bow, drawn and nocked and aimed at the flame goddess' heart, was lowered slowly as Zel'ra got to her feet. Inigo had seen this look on her only twice before, once when dealing with Farengar, Whiterun's snobbish wizard, the other had been inside Ilinalta's Deep. Her claws lit up the hallway, conjuring up some massive energy. The atronach let loose a few fire bolts, which glanced harmlessly off the ward the Khajiit threw up.

Zel'ra released the conjuration spell, and in the hallway stood a Dremora tall, muscled, and armed with a sword that held a freezing chill. Two swipes of his blade, and the atronach fell to the floor. "There you are, weakling!" he cried as he turned the corner. The daedra, having found his victim, leapt forward even as lightning bolts struck him. He summoned his own flame atronach, and the two disappeared around the corner, even as several other screams sounded in alarm.

"Mr Dragonfly is glad that you are on our side," Inigo told her after a moment. He gave his companion a wide berth, having been on her bad side more than once.

The sounds of magical blasts could be heard deeper into the tunnels, then silenced after a moment. The two Khajiit made their way slowly down, and found themselves in a large room. Items were scattered around, benches overturned, and bodies slumped over, some burned, some mutilated. "There could be no other end," the Dremora told them with a smug grin at the center of the room before returning to Oblivion.

Zel'ra grinned with satisfaction at the results of the devastation. 'Master of the arcane' indeed. She began sifting through the robes of the necromancers, finding a few bits of gold, alchemic ingredients, and the odd dagger. She let out a sigh as Inigo returned from rechecking the hallway for stray ebony arrows. "What is wrong, my friend?"

"This is disappointing, Inigo. I felt for sure that we would discover that ominous feeling in these tunnels, but…" she trailed off, ears twitching towards the wall Inigo stood next to. There was nothing there, save for a large wardrobe.

The blue Khajiit turned to it, arms folding. "What messy housekeepers. This dresser is badly scratched and hastily stuffed against the wall, and…"

He, too, trailed off, as the two seemed to come to the same conclusion. The dresser was hiding something. It took both of them, with great effort, to pry the furniture away from the wall, revealing a hidden tunnel. They followed it down, that ominous feeling of dread increasing. Finally, they found it: a dark crystal resting upon a pedastal, glowing bright purple and casting a dreadful light. "Finally...this must be what these cretins were hiding," Zel'ra mused.

"Careful, Zel'ra. We do not know what this crystal is, or what it can do. These necromancers were guarding it quite jealously. It could be some powerful and dangerous artifact whose nefarious aura could poison us! They had it locked away for a reason."

Zel'ra gave Inigo a passing look of sarcasm. "Really? You worry too much, round one. This crystal must surely have been nothing more than a tool to scare people away from the falls." The tawny Khajiit produced a blue silk handkerchief from her pockets and carefully wrapped the crystal with it, then returned it into her slender-fitting black armor before turning to leave. "Come on, perhaps Amber Creek will be able to tell us about this 'nefarious' crystal."

"I am not round," Inigo muttered, taking a last look at the empty chamber before following his companion.


End file.
